


We Ain't Gotta Rush

by jinlin5



Series: Moni Gallagher Milkovich [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Post-Canon, Smut, Top Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlin5/pseuds/jinlin5
Summary: “Okay I think I bought us some time,” Ian’s voice is still hushed and breathless and he tries not to get his long legs tangled up in sweatpants as he frantically kicks them off and away. He’s on the bed and shimmying towards Mickey in the blink of an eye. “I just held her and rocked her- we fed her like half an hour ago and her diaper was clean so-”“Fuck yeah, talk dirty to me!” Mickey taunts, and flicks on the baby monitor once again- just in case. Ian swats at him before grabbing his thighs, dragging Mickey down onto his back until Ian is looming over him. He opens his mouth, as if to respond, but Mickey decides quickly that he’s been waiting long enough._______________________________Ian and Mickey are trying to get busy, but their six month old daughter just isn’t having it.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Moni Gallagher Milkovich [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066415
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	We Ain't Gotta Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody!  
> Here's another snapshot from the Gallavich parenting saga! This series is obviously not coming out in chronological order, but hopefully one days I'll have enough to piece into a full story!  
> For now, enjoy!

Mickey’s trying to concentrate. He really is. 

He shuts his eyes and attempts to think about only what’s happening to him in the moment. Ian is between his legs, nipping at his spread inner thighs, dotting his skin with ruby red marks that’ll stick around for days afterward. Little reminders. Mickey feels the warmth in the bottom of his stomach, pooling and tingling. Ian works his way up higher, slow and steady, ever a tease. 

But in the end, Mickey just can’t hack it. The baby monitor on the bedside table crackles as Moni lets out yet another unearthly schriek. Mickey groans- and not from pleasure, Ian can tell. 

Mickey feels Ian pull back, and when he opens his eyes, he sees his husband sitting back on his haunches, staring plaintively down at him. 

“Looks like we got a problem here, huh?” Ian murmurs, leaning in to poke at Mickey’s completely flaccid cock, which lays against his thigh much like a deflated balloon. 

“I’d fuckin’ say,” Mickey huffs, reaching up to yank the lumpy pillow out from behind his head and pinning it down over his face, like he’s really debating whether or not he wants to suffocate himself. It’s starting to seem like the only option- they’ve been trying to bone for what feels like hours, and every time they get somewhere, the baby monitor picks up Moni’s crying. “It’s like she  _ knows.  _ Like she’s got some sorta sixth sense for when her parents are tryna get busy. _ Fuckkkkk _ .” Mickey bellows into the pillow, and he’s not convinced that Ian actually understands what he’s saying- but he’s humming like he agrees. Mickey thinks it’s a miracle he can hear shit all, given the wailing their daughter is doing in the other room. 

Ian pushes himself forward, dipping low enough to press a solid kiss to his husband’s stomach, just to the left of his navel. “She’s not doin’ it on purpose, Mick. She’s colicky. Normal for a six month old.” Ian knows a thing or two about babies- he’s dealt with enough of them. Moni’s already got more personality than he’s ever seen on a kid who’s just starting to get a hang of the whole ‘ _ sitting up on her own _ ’ thing. Still, it might just be because Moni is  _ theirs _ \- he figures he’s bound to be acutely aware of every little thing since he’s completely responsible for her. 

“I don’t buy that shit. Yev didn’t fuckin’ scream this much.” Mickey huffs, but he finally removes the pillow when Ian’s trail of kisses leads him all the way up to Mickey’s left nipple. He gives it a soft kitten lick before teasing it with his teeth, and Mickey squirms, grabbing at his head to haul him upward. Ian chuckles and let’s it happen, crawling up until he and Mickey are nose to nose. 

“Fucker,” Mickey breathes up at his husband’s grinning face.

“Kids are all different, dipshit.” Ian chuckles, and lowers his weight down onto Mickey’s frame all at once, driving the air from his lungs. “Plus, Yev did plenty of screaming. He usually just tired himself out by the time you got back from… wherever.” Ian sees something shift behind Mickey’s eyes- Yevgeny has been back in their lives for a few years now, but it doesn’t stop Mickey from having a few regrets- specifically dating back to Yev’s infancy. Instead of changing the subject, Ian just kisses him. It’s firm and meaningful, and Mickey knows it’s Ian’s special way of tell his racing thoughts to shut the fuck up and move on. 

Either way, the moment doesn’t last long. Moni’s crying hikes up another decibel, creating an ear piercing buzz from the old baby monitor- a hand me down from Debbie that had been dropped down the stairs one to many times. Mickey had just been grateful that they hadn’t needed to buy a new one, on top of all the other baby expenses. Now, he isn’t so fucking sure that grateful is the word he’s looking for. 

“Jesus titty-fucking  _ Christ!”  _ Mickey barely bothers to detach his lips from Ian’s before he makes the exclamation, and Ian laughs and rolls onto his back beside his husband. It’s not even funny anymore- they’re both simply delirious. It’s been nearly a week and half since they’ve had the time or the energy to properly fuck one another, and now that they’ve both planned for it, Moni has decided that it’s the perfect time to be in-fucking-consolable.

“Alright, alright, lemme go see if I can calm her down,” Ian grunts and flips himself off of the bed smoothly, stepping into his sweatpants and yanking them up to his waist. 

“Good fuckin’ luck man,” Mickey salutes him in a comedically exaggerated fashion as he pulls himself up to sit against the headboard, shoving his pillow behind his back for support. “So much for the ‘cry it out’ method. I knew it was a load of bullshit when you made me listen to that gay-ass podcast.” He comments dryly. Ian’s still laughing as he leaves the room, 

When their door opens, the muffled cry on the other side becomes startling audible and Mickey quickly grabs the monitor and turns it off. He breathes a sigh of relief when the little crackling device goes silent- he couldn’t fucking handle it from both sides. 

Ian’s gone for maybe ten minutes, but Mickey feels like time is dragging its feet on purpose. He shivers a little. They’re trying to avoid running the gas bill up by only turning the heat on in the morning when they first wake up and then turning it off again until late at night when the temperatures are too low to ignore. Mickey glances at the ancient alarm clock beside the bed- it reads 8:36 pm, which is still a little too early to warrant turning on the heat. Besides, Mickey knows sitting stark-ass naked on the bed isn’t helping him warm up. If he was honest, the only thing that would do the trick would be if Ian could successfully get the kid to sleep so they could actually fuck under the covers-like god intended. 

Eventually, and mercifully, Mickey hears the shrill cries petering out until total quiet takes their place, and he grins from ear to ear. Ian has a  _ way  _ with Moni that Mickey finds himself still trying to get the hang of, even six months in. He thinks it might take a lifetime for him to get it, but he’s  _ trying _ , goddammit. It’s gotta count for something. 

By the time Ian runs back into the room, and carefully shuts the door behind him, he’s already got his sweatpants pulled down to his knees. Mickey snickers at how giddy his husband looks- like he just won a fucking prize at the county fair or something.

“Okay I think I bought us some time,” Ian’s voice is still hushed and breathless and he tries not to get his long legs tangled up in sweatpants as he frantically kicks them off and away. He’s on the bed and shimmying towards Mickey in the blink of an eye. “I just held her and rocked her- we fed her like half an hour ago and her diaper was clean so-” 

“Fuck yeah, talk dirty to me!” Mickey taunts, and flicks on the baby monitor once again- just in case. Ian swats at him before grabbing his thighs, dragging Mickey down onto his back until Ian is looming over him. He opens his mouth, as if to respond, but Mickey decides quickly that he’s been waiting long enough. 

Wrapping both of his strong arms around the back of his husband’s head, Mickey pulls him down so that their lips slot together in a sloppy but satisfying collision of teeth and tongues. He feels Ian grind down against him, his cock already firming up against Mickey’s thigh, and Mickey feels a current of electricity run down his spine as Ian’s fingers trail up his side- from his thighs, over his hips and ribs, until he’s cradling the back of Mickey’s head in his hands. 

As much as they want to enjoy themselves, both men know it’s a crap shoot whether or not they’ll have time to finish if they don’t get the show on the fucking road. After a few more seconds of earnest necking, Ian places one last squeaky kiss onto Mickey’s lips and pulls back, tapping at his calf. 

“Spread em,” Ian growls, and Mickey does just that, separating his knees wide enough so that Ian can situate himself back in between. Ian reaches over to the bedside drawer and finally retrieves the lube. They’ve had the same bottle since they brought Moni home from the hospital and they’re only about a quarter of the way through. It’s a disgrace really, but those are the breaks of parenthood, Mickey figures. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as the tip of Ian’s cock drags back and forth over his stomach in the wake of the action. Mickey doesn’t have to look between them to know that he is just as painfully hard. The silence is a weird type of aphrodisiac- they both can think straight enough to get riled up, for once. 

Ian kneels between his legs and squirts a nearly unreasonable amount of lube onto his palm. Normally, he would only coat two fingers first, and ease Mickey open for him. Maybe throw in a little ass eating…or even a little nipple pinching. But given that time is a luxury that neither one of them can afford, Ian knows that Mickey has no choice but to forgive him. He goes to work slicking up his cock, spreading the freezing gel from his tip to his balls a few times until it warms up against the skin. It simply  _ has _ to be enough, and by the way Mickey is lifting his ass off of the bed and clawing at Ian’s arms, Ian figures he isn’t going to be on the receiving end of any complaints. 

“Ready?” Ian hums, lowering himself until his tip bumps against Mickey’s entrance. He knows it’s bound to be rough, but they’ve done a lot more with a lot less and desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures. 

“Get the fuck in me!” Mickey grunts, his voice low, mindful of any loud noises that would bring the moment crashing down around them. 

Mickey feels the pressure of Ian’s cock against his hole, and as he braces himself for the first punishing thrust, a hoarse, strangled cry rips through the baby monitor so violently Mickey swears the damn thing almost shakes off of the fucking night stand. The shriek is somehow worse than before, and assaults them both with its power and volume- like her lungs have somehow been replaced by trumpets.

“FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!” Mickey wails, kicking his feet out, and he honestly feels like crying right along with her.

“I’M FUCKING TRYING!” Ian screams back, and they’re both so frustrated that there’s no humor to be found in it. “Dunno if you noticed, but our daughter is  _ cockblocking _ us like she’s being  _ paid _ to do that shit!” He makes a concerted effort to climb down from the bed, no doubt to attempt to soothe Moni once again, when Mickey stops him in his tracks with a hand on his shoulder. 

Mickey’s sitting up now, and he’s never been more flaccid in his life. “Nah, I got it this time, man.” He offers. He figures he might as well try- after all, Ian has yet to be successful, and it’s worth a fucking shot. “Besides, you’re all… _ lubey _ right now. She might slip outta your hands or something.”

Ian doesn’t find the joke remotely funny, and Mickey doesn’t blame him. He slides off of the bed, locating the same sweatpants Ian had discarded earlier. They’re obviously too long in the legs for Mickey, and they bunch up around his ankles like a motherfucker, but they cover his ass and that’s all that matters. When he turns to face his husband, Mickey sees that Ian has collapsed face down into the mattress and the shrill cries emanating from the monitor provide a fitting backdrop for the depressing visual. 

Mickey thinks about laughing, but decides it might push Ian over the edge. Instead he leaves, flinging the door open and marching down the hall. It’s a short trip to Moni’s nursery, which doubles as Yevgeny’s bedroom when he spends the weekend, but every inch he advances, he swears the crying gets ten times louder. 

It’s deafening by the time he reaches the room, and when he cracks open the door he can see her outline in the crib, illuminated by the tiny nightlight. As Mickey steps over to the crib, he glances down at his daughter. He can’t help but marvel for a moment- that even though her face is beet red and scrunched up like some sort of otherworldly creature from Star Wars or Star Trek or some shit- he still thinks she’s fucking adorable. 

Mickey reaches down into the crib and scoops her up, and he can already hear himself making those comforting noises- little hushes that have next to no effect on Moni’s crying. He reels her in towards him and lays her on his bare chest, feeling her squirm against his shoulder. 

“Hey, hey…” Mickey coos, even though her hitching cries are completely drowning him out. “What’s with all the tears M&M?”  _ Moni Milkovich _ . The nickname only works if you drop the  _ Gallagher _ , which irks Ian a little more than it should. Mickey presses his cheek against hers and finally notices that she’s a little warm-  _ probably from all the fuckin’ screamin’ _ , he reasons. 

He takes little bouncy steps with her around the shoebox sized room, rocking her gently and talking to her as if she’s going to understand him. Mickey’s glad she can’t actually- it’s probably not the most appropriate shit to say to your child, but Mickey’s at his wits end. 

“You realize you're kinda stopping your dads from boning, right kiddo?” Mickey hums in her ear. He cups the back of her head, swirling the feathery blond hairs around with his fingers, and inhales deeply- taking in the sweet and powdery  _ baby _ scent. He still can’t get over it, and he can’t figure out where the fuck it comes from, but it’s easily the best thing he’s ever smelled in his life. “If you keep this shit up dad and I are gonna have no choice but to drop you off at your Aunt Debbie’s house and leave you there forever.”

Well, maybe not  _ forever _ . But the thought gives Mickey an idea. As Moni’s cries simmer down to whimpers, he carefully steps out of the nursery with her and hurries up the hallway to the bedroom. Ian is already snoring when he pokes his head into the room, his back to the door and his nudity on full display. Mickey’s glad Moni won’t remember shit all about the experience when she gets older, because he has no doubt the sight of her father’s bare naked ass would traumatize their daughter before she even stands a fighting chance. 

Mickey snatched his phone off of the nightstand. He makes it just outside of the room before he’s dialing his favorite cousin’s number with one hand and pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Yo,” Sandy answers at the last possible second, right before Mickey thinks the call is definitely going to voicemail. 

“You at Debbie’s?” Mickey whispers. Moni is still sniffling a little, but the sound is barely there and Mickey is grateful.

“Uh… yeah.” Sandy answers. It’s a stupid question, Mickey knows. There isn’t a moment that Sandy spends  _ not _ by Debbie’s side anymore. It’s the classic Milkovich brand of loyalty. “The fuck are you whispering for?” 

“Listen, I need a favor.” The silence on the other end has Mickey gritting his teeth in frustration. “Sandy I will fuckin’  _ pay _ you. Just help me out.” 

Sandy sighs. “Whattaya need, Mick?” 

  
  


Sandy consents to convincing Debbie to come pick Moni up for the night, only when Mickey agrees to supply her with a literal  _ pound _ of weed and enough rolling papers to last her a fucking lifetime. It’s a good thing Mickey knows a guy who can get him premium prices without even having to be threatened- he had made a few connections in prison that he knew would come in handy, if he played his cards right. 

Mickey had braced himself before nudging Ian awake and telling him the plan he’d orchestrated. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to blow over so well, and his feelings about Ian were usually spot on after so many years of being unavoidably attached to the man. 

“You didn’t even fuckin’ ask me if I’d be okay with it!” Ian barks, straining to keep the volume of his voice under control. Moni’s back in her crib, and Mickey really hopes she’ll stay there until Debbie’s truck pulls up to their driveway. 

“Well excuse the fuck outta me!” Mickey hisses, as he watches his husband pace up and down the room, wearing a hole in the floorboards. “I’m doin’ us both a favor.” 

“You can’t just pawn our daughter off cuz you wanna fuck me, Mick.” Ian halts in the middle of the room, gesticulating like a madman in order to convey his distress without having to raise his voice. “That’s not how this shit works.” 

Mickey crosses his arms and leans against the headboard. “Oh fuck off, man. That shit is like a  _ Gallagher specialty _ and you know it. How many times have we watched Franny or Fred! You think Debbie and Lip weren’t taking advantage of that time to go get laid?” Mickey raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. Ian glares at him before huffing and continuing his pacing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Mickey hums triumphantly. 

“She’s only six months old!” Ian counters. “We’ve… we’ve never left her with anyone else before…” 

Mickey regards the change in his husband’s expression, from frustrated to worried. It is true, after all. They had both been lucky enough to get alternating paternity leave from work- Mickey had gotten the first three months off, and Ian had gotten the second. Moni had never been without the presence of at least one of them, and Mickey knew it was a point of pride for Ian.

Mickey climbs off of the bed before he even realizes he’s doing it, and approaches Ian with outstretched arms. “It’s gotta happen sooner than later, man.” Mickey folds his arms around his husband’s waist and Ian nuzzles into the crook of his neck, exhaling all of his worry. They’ve somehow learned exactly how to comfort one another, after some serious trial and error over the years. “It’s better we get it over with now, rather than during an actual fuckin’ emergency. We can’t both be there all the time.” 

Ian nods, rubbing his nose up the side of Mickey’s neck and digging his fingers into his back. “I know. Just wish you’d given me some sorta warning.” 

Mickey does feel a little bad, but he knows Ian’s going to be thanking him when they’re faced with an entire night of uninterrupted quiet. They might even get the candles out for that shit, make an  _ occasion _ out of it. 

“Listen to me, knucklehead,” Mickey pulls away and grabs Ian’s jaws with both hands, steadying his head and forcing his husband to look him in the eyes. “We’re gonna rip this fuckin’ bandage off, right here, right now. Moni’s gonna be fine with Debbie and Sandy. And you and I-” Mickey pats the side of Ian’s face playfully, “- are gonna fuck until we pass out. You got that?”

Ian looks like he’s going to say something, but all he does is smile and nod, leaning forward to kiss Mickey. “I guess I can do that…” Ian shrugs when they finally part. 

They both hear the knock at their front door then, and Mickey disentangles himself from his husband’s embrace, slapping his ass on the way out of the bedroom. “You go get the kid and meet us at the door. Already packed up her diaper bag.” Mickey calls behind him as they head in opposite directions.

“Fuck, you always say the  _ sexiest _ shit to me,” Ian fakes a moan and he hears Mickey cackle in delight- it’s music to his ears. 

  
  


As hard as it is for Ian to pass Moni over to Debbie and Sandy, and watch her truck back out the driveway knowing his precious cargo is on board, Mickey’s thoroughly convinced that Ian lets all of it go the moment the bedroom door is closed behind them. 

Mickey finds himself face down in the comforter, ass propped up in the air as Ian spreads his cheeks and eats him like it’s his last fucking meal. Mickey lets out a heavy, unbridled moan and bucks back against Ian’s mouth, feeling every inch of his slick tongue as it laps and curls around his hole- occasionally dipping into the entrance and making Mickey beg for more. 

Ian comes up for a moment, gasping for air, and smacks his husband’s ass cheek hard enough to instantly leave a red welt. “ _ Fuck, _ Mick... “ Ian groans as he watches Mickey’s back arch upward in pleasure. “Almost forgot how good you taste.” He punctuates the statement by leaning in and spitting onto the pulsing ring of muscles, using his thumb to spread the saliva around before diving back in- working his jaw until it’s aching. 

Mickey takes a break from biting down on the bed sheets to pant, “Almost forgot..  _ Mmfff _ .. How good your fuckin’ tongue feels…” Ian hums into him and rewards him by reaching between Mickey’s legs and tugging on his leaking cock, using his large hand to stroke his husband’s shaft roughly- just the way Mickey likes it.

“Jesus, alright! Get the fuck in me,” Mickey props himself up on shaky limbs and throws a wicked smile back at Ian. “Wanna feel that cock all up in my guts before I blow my load.”

Ian almost laughs out of sheer happiness, but manages to maintain his composure for long enough to give Mickey’s entrance a few more purposeful licks. He smacks Mickey’s ass once more as he lifts himself from his knees- the other cheek this time- and when he stands he nearly topples over. All the blood in Ian’s body has apparently migrated straight to his dick, with nothing left over for his brain or other vital organs. 

Fortunately, Ian’s already lubed up and ready to go- he’d been slicking his cock up the entire time he was on his knees, preparing for this exact moment. After stroking himself a few more times, and feeling his hard member pulse in his hand, Ian lines himself up with Mickey’s hole, and this time he doesn’t wait for anything to interrupt him. He grips Mickey’s hip with one hand and the shaft of his cock with the other and feeds himself into the tight heat of Mickey’s body, feeling every muscle in Mickey’s body tense and loosen rapidly around him. 

“Oh fuck  _ yesssss _ ,” Mickey hisses, grasping at the bed sheets and tearing them from the corner of the mattress as Ian begins to rock in and out of him, picking up speed with each thrust. “That’s the shit I’ve been waiting for…  _ unfff _ , that’s right, fuck me just like that!” Mickey’s babbling is intoxicating, and Ian can’t get enough of his husband’s dirty mouth. It’s only gotten more vulgar and unapologetic over the years, and Ian’s suddenly very thankful that Mickey can be as loud and ridiculous as he wants in their empty apartment. He’s got a tight hold on Mickey’s hips, pounding into him and watching each time they connect and separate, blurring the space in between them the faster he goes. 

Mickey’s entire frame arches back when Ian slams against his prostate and Ian has to force his torso back down onto the bed, so as not to lose his pace and fuck up his rhythm. “Mmmm  _ fuck _ , take my cock,” Ian grunts. It’s the only grouping of words his brain can string together, so it’ll have to do- besides, there are no descriptors in the English language that adequately delineate how amazing it feels to have his husband all to himself for the first time in ages. He wants to say more, but he thinks Mickey understands him very clearly, as Ian pistons himself into the man’s prostate over and over, pulling grunts and screams and whimpers from Mickey that would make ever a seasoned pornstar blush. 

“I’m fuckin’ close!” Mickey wails abruptly, spurning Ian on to muster up the strength and fuck him even harder. He can feel himself racing towards the edge too, and the need to cross the finish line is compressing all the air from his lungs. “I’m gonna cum! Fuck, right there! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna fuckin’-” 

Mickey’s phone rings, and the ringtone is a loop of George Carlin’s infamous “Rat Shit Bat Shit” cheer that signifies that Sandy is calling. Ian instantly screeches to a halt. He goes from intensely focused on his goal, to flushed with worry. It’s been maybe an hour since Moni had been picked up, and the fact that Sandy is calling so soon doesn’t bode well at all. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Mickey buries his face in the comforter and nearly howls in frustration. Ian isn’t even listening to Mickey’s tantrum, he’s already pulled out of his husband and is frantically scrambling to get a hold of the phone. 

“Hello?” Ian pants down the line, and is blind sided when Mickey lunges at him out of nowhere, yanking the phone out of his hand. 

“This shit better be good, bitch!” Mickey screams hoarsely, batting Ian away. “You have no fucking clue how close I was to-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Mick!” Sandy roars, and the panic in her voice actually makes Mickey obey her. “Moni’s been crying since we picked her up, alright? She’s got a fucking fever!” 

Mickey feels time stop and the planet halt on its axis. “What?” He breathes, and Ian the change in his tone scares the shit out of Ian. “How high is it?” 

“How high is what, Mickey?” Ian steps forward and tries to grab the phone again, but Mickey avoids him by turning his back. 

“It just reached 100 degrees, and it’s still climbing. That’s why I called,” Sandy explains, and Mickey thinks he’s going to be sick. “We tried giving her a cold bath to break the fever but it didn’t do any good and-”

“Take her to the fucking ER. Right goddamn now!” Mickey commands, crackling with tension. Ian’s given up fighting him, and is pulling on clothing as fast as he can manage. “We’ll meet you there!”

  
  


Ian’s never felt more relieved than when the doctor tells him that his daughter's fever is simply the symptom of an ear infection. Very common, and very treatable. Ian knows it’s true- he used to get them all the time as a little kid and he can remember Liam screaming his head off on more than one occasion because of that very issue. Still, this reassurance doesn't make him feel any better about the situation, and Ian can tell by the look on his husband's face as the doctor explains things to them that Mickey feels just as defeated.

They take Moni home a few hours later, with a week and half’s worth of antibiotics, a small bottle of acetaminophen, and instructions on how to administer a hot compress. Ian doesn’t need the instructions- he’s a fucking EMT, for god’s sake. He reminds Mickey of this several times on the drive home, repeatedly glancing at him in the rearview, to the point where Mickey has to command Ian to keep his eyes on the road. 

“How could I have fucking missed it!” Ian exclaims, as he pulls into their driveway. “I thought she was a little warm, when I went in and picked her up, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his head as he unbuckles himself. Mickey does the same and unhooks the rear facing car seat. He looks down at Moni, who’s sleeping soundly, and he watches her little chest rise and fall for a moment before helping hand the carseat out to Ian.

By the time they settle Moni down in her crib and spend about ten minutes each poised in the doorway, just watching her sleep, Ian and Mickey collapse into their bed, thoroughly exhausted. It’s past midnight now and the last few hours have been a blur.

“We messed up…” Ian breathes, and he pulls Mickey into his side until his head is resting on Ian’s bicep.

Mickey shrugs. “She’s alright. We were just trying to have a little alone time. ‘S not a fuckin’ crime.” He sounds very much like he’s trying to convince himself of it too.

Ian knows it’s probably true. It’s  _ not _ a crime to want some time to themselves, even though it feels like it. Ian guesses that’s what happens when a person grows up in a home where their parents feel no obligation towards them what-so-ever. Ian had made the decision early on to be the opposite of anything even remotely resembling the parenting styles of Frank or Monica. He hadn’t expected that wanting  _ any _ sort of separation, however small, would feel so completely sacrilegious.

With a sigh, Ian melts into the mattress. “Parenting’s gotta come first…” He mumbles, already half asleep. 

Mickey knows he’s right. It’s the responsibility they signed up for when Moni became part of their family. It scares the shit out of him constantly, but he wouldn’t give it up- not for anything. 

“I know, man. I know.” Mickey turns on his side, and buries himself in Ian’s embrace. He figures it would be foolish of him to try and initiate another attempt at sex, and besides, Mickey’s not sure either one of them could get it up anyway. He merely presses his lips to Ian’s freckled shoulder and smirks. “We got the rest of our lives to bang, anyway. We ain’t gotta rush.” 

Ian might be asleep by the time Mickey says it, and he might not. Either way, when he cracks an eye open, he sees the outline of a smile on Ian’s lips despite the darkness, and Mickey knows they’re going to be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 Leave a kudos and a comment and let me know what you thought :)


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